Sing For Me by Rachel Schurig

Eva

Will might have had a bit of a point about his family. They’re definitely…a lot.

They’re loud and easily excitable and full of way too much energy for what’s supposed to be a relaxing vacation. But they’re also incredibly kind. And funny. And once they get past the novelty of a pop star in their midst, they start to calm down with the questions and the staring.

What doesn’t seem to lessen in the slightest as the days pass is how much every person on the property clearly cares about Will. His aunts dote on him, always patting his arm or shoulder when they pass, asking if he needs a fresh drink or a second helping at dinner. His grandparents light up every time they see him.

The cousins clearly all look up to Will as their leader. The younger group—or the Littles, as everyone else seems to call them—are all constantly hanging off him, begging him to come play whatever game they’ve got going or join them in a hike/trip to the swimming hole/kayaking adventure.

The middle kids obviously look to him for approval. At the barbecue that first day, Will laughs at something his brother Silas says and the kid’s face lights up like he just won the lottery. It’s adorable.

Then there’s the older group, the cousins that I met at the gala. The six of them are incredibly close, closer than many people are with their siblings. They have about a hundred inside jokes and they all seem to know just about everything that’s going on in each other’s lives.

Except for me. The five older cousins seem every bit as fascinated by me as the rest of them. But while the Littles are clearly excited by my celebrity, the older group appears to be more fascinated by my interactions with Will. Pretty much every time we touch or talk in view of the others, one of them is watching us with undisguised interest.

The aunts and uncles do the same. From the way they’re all acting, I wonder if Will has ever brought a girlfriend home before—not that I’m technically his girlfriend, of course. A fact that I’m reminded of when I’m approached by Presely, Silas, Lyric, and CeCe after breakfast the day after we arrive.

I’m enjoying a cup of coffee on the deck of the lodge, watching Will and his Uncle Levi on the grass down the hill where they’re tinkering with one of the ATVs. Apparently, it hasn’t been working and Will knows a thing or two about engines. Though I never remember having a single mechanic fantasy in my life, there’s something about watching Will with his sleeved rolled up, fixing things with his bare hands and getting greasy, that does it for me.

I’m so engrossed that I barely notice when the four kids join me.

“Hey, Eva,” Presley says, sitting in the Adirondack chair next to mine. Silas takes the chair next to her while CeCe and Lyric stand behind them, their arms crossed. Every one of them is unabashedly staring at me.

“Oh, hey,” I say, shifting in my seat and wondering why I feel so intimidated by a group of teenagers. CeCe is a tiny little thing, barely coming up to my shoulder, but the way her eyes are narrowed on me has me fidgeting, uncomfortable. “How are you guys?”

“Fine,” Silas says, his voice clipped.

I look from stony face to stony face. “Can I do something for you?”

“We just wanted to talk to you,” Lyric says, smoothing her hands over a pair of cut-off jean shorts.

“About your intentions,” CeCe adds in an ominous tone.

Oh. Oh. My eyes flick from their faces down to Will on the lawn. He hasn’t noticed us yet.

“My intentions,” I repeat, and the kids all nod. “With…?”

“With my brother,” CeCe says, in a voice I’m sure she means to be tough. The effect is kind of ruined by the way her pig tails bob when she says it.

I swallow, unsure of how to respond. “Will has been a very good friend to me,” I finally say.

Lyric snorts. “Of course he has. That’s Will.”

I can’t help but smile at the fervor in her voice. “I’m sure you guys all love him very much.”

Silas leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and meets my gaze. His eyes are so much like Will’s, so much like their dad’s. “My brother is the best,” he says, voice low and full of conviction. “He takes care of everyone.”

“I can see that.”

“But he’s more sensitive than he lets on,” Presley cuts in.

“And it would be easy for someone he cares about to hurt him,” Silas adds in a soft voice.

I glance back down the hill to where Will and Levi are working. His uncle says something that has Will laughing, his head tilted back, morning sunlight glinting off that thick head of hair.

“I have no intention of hurting him,” I tell them.

“Are you his girlfriend?” CeCe demands.

I study the little girl. “Did he tell you that?”

She shakes her head. “He never talks about girls. To anyone.”

Hmm. That’s interesting. He told me once he didn’t date, but Will is a ridiculously good-looking guy. I’ve seen the way women react to him when we’re out. I would think he has girls hanging all over him. And he’s obviously very close with his family, however much he might complain about them. It seems weird he wouldn’t ever bring women home.

I look back to Silas, wondering how much to say. Will and I haven’t talked about our relationship since we walked out of that restaurant and found ourselves surrounded by paparazzi. Sometimes I’ll catch him watching me and I’ll be pretty sure he wants to ask me about it. But he doesn’t bring it up—maybe because he thinks the whole invasive media thing has been too stressful for me.

And, of course, I’m too much of a chicken to bring it up myself.

“That’s pretty personal, you know,” I finally settle on. “Maybe you guys should talk to Will about it.”

Lyric narrows her eyes at me but Silas just studies my face, a contemplative expression on his. Finally, he nods. “I guess it’s good you’re protecting his privacy.”

CeCe makes a scoffing noise but he ignores her.

“We just wanted to make sure you aren’t like, using him,” Silas continues. “Because he deserves a lot better than that.”

I hold his gaze, hoping he can see how sincere I am. “I would never use your brother. I care about him a lot.”

He nods again, relaxing back in his seat. “Okay, then.”

I look to the girls. Presley seems to take her cues from Silas, relaxing in her chair as well. Lyric and CeCe are still watching me carefully.

“Did Will tell you we met at his tattoo shop?” I ask them. I brace my foot on the edge of my chair so they can see my lavender. “He gave me this.”

They all lean forward to look. “That’s a wimpy tattoo,” Presley declares, and I laugh while Lyric elbows her.

“It was my first one. But he showed me his portfolio—he’s really good.”

“He’s amazing,” CeCe corrects, but she’s grinning now.

“He promised me he’d give me my first tattoo when I turn eighteen,” Presley adds. “I already know what I want.”

“I think he promised everyone that,” Silas says, grinning, and I grin back.

“You’re all very lucky to have him.”

“We are,” he agrees.

“And you’re lucky too,” Lyric cuts in. “Because Will would never just bring somewhere here if he didn’t like, really care about them.”

“I really care about him, too,” I promise them.

They finally seem satisfied by that. CeCe leans toward me, eyes wide. “Just so you know, I’m a really big fan.”

I laugh while Presley smacks her shoulder. “Our parents said we weren’t allowed to talk about that!”

CeCe smacks her back. “I’m just saying. I don’t want her to think we don’t like her or something.” She looks back to me. “We just have to put Will first. Even if you are super famous.”

God, I can practically feel my heart melting. These kids are something else.

“I don’t have a big family like you,” I explain. “But I do have a little sister. And I always want to protect her, too. So I get it.”

Before any of them can respond, Will’s voice comes echoing up from the grass. “What are you guys doing?”

“Shit,” Presley mutters, eyes going wide. “He’s going to be pissed.”

“We’re just chatting,” I call back to him, and the kids all sigh in relief.

“We were going to play Risk,” Silas says, sounding almost shy. “You want to play?”

“Do you have Star Wars Risk?”

“You like Star Wars?” Presley asks, surprised.

“I love Star Wars. I’m actually a giant nerd about Sci-Fi stuff. Will teases me all the time.”

“I don’t think we have that one here,” Silas says, standing. “But I’m pretty sure we have the Game of Thrones version if you like that.”

I stand as well, grabbing my half empty cup of coffee. “Sounds even better.”

* * *

We endup turning our game of Risk into a tournament, which means there’s pretty much always a game going, different players subbing in and out. The Ransomes, I discover, are competitive. The trash talk that comes out of their mouths would make a pro athlete blush.

Risk isn’t the only game they play over the next few days. The den in the lodge is filled with board games—Monopoly, Clue, and Trivial Pursuit all make appearances. Some of the older kids start a game of Settlers of Catan that goes on for days. Video games are reserved for evenings, when there isn’t sun to enjoy outside but there’s usually a game of poker going on somewhere on the property.

Will hadn’t been joking about the size of the lodge. The place is huge, completely dwarfing the sweet farmhouse next door. Made entirely of glass and logs, every room offers amazing views out over the valley and to the mountains beyond. The main living space centers around an absolutely massive stone fireplace, and there are enough soft, slouchy couches and oversized floor pillows for everyone to lounge around. There’s a ridiculously large kitchen, where you can pretty much always find one of the cousins scrounging for food, and a wraparound deck filled with comfy loungers and creaky rocking chairs. I was surprised when Will took me on a tour to find some of the bedrooms weren’t in use. Apparently, most of the younger kids prefer to buddy up in rooms filled with bunk beds.

On the second afternoon, Will and I sit on the deck, drinking cold beer. There’s been an early heat wave in Tennessee and the sun feels more like summer than spring. Me and Will and the older cousins sun ourselves, watching while Reed plays some kind of Frisbee game with Presley, Nix, and Silas. I haven’t figured out the rules yet, but it seems to involve a lot of shouting.

“It’s so fucking hot out here,” River moans just as his mom walks by.

Daisy smacks him on the back of the head. “Language.”

“Are you kidding me?” he mumbles, rubbing his head. “I’ve heard the way dad talks with his brothers.”

“And when he does it in front of the kids, he gets a smack from me too,” she says. “Now get off your lazy butt and come help me bring up some more ice from the basement freezer.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbles, following her into the house.

Rose smiles happily. “I love it when she puts him in his place.”

“Your mom is pretty awesome,” I tell her.

“The most awesome,” she agrees. The warmth in her eyes makes my heart twinge a bit. Seeing how the two of them interact makes me miss my own mom.

Will reaches over and squeezes my hand under the chair. Just like that the ache recedes. He always seems to know just what I need.

My attention is grabbed by an even louder outburst of shouting down on the lawn.

“I want a do-over,” Reed is yelling, while his daughter and Nix point and laugh at him.

“He got it in the slot!” Silas yells, and Reed high fives him.

“Hell yes I did, kid.”

“Cheater!” the other two call across the lawn.

Silas looks up to the deck, waving his arms. “Will! Come be our spotter.”

“Yeah!” Reed shouts, “since some people—like my own daughter—can’t be trusted.”

Will gives me a sheepish smile. “We take Can Jam pretty seriously around here.”

“Can Jam?”

He points at the game down below. “You throw the frisbees and try to get them in the can, pretty much.”

“Sounds exciting,” I deadpan, and he laughs.

“We’re a pretty competitive bunch.”

“I’ve noticed. Your mother laughed in my face when I folded at poker last night.”

“Will!” Silas hollers.

“Get your ass down here, kid!” Reed calls.

“Go on.” I wave a hand towards the lawn. “Don’t want to be responsible for Can Jam related riots.”

He gives me that half smile that always gets my heart racing. “Be right back.”

I smile as I watch him go—then realize that Rose, Fox, Alex, and Everly are all staring at me again.

“Sorry,” Everly says when she sees they’ve been caught. “We’re just happy for him.”

I know my face is red so I hide it behind my beer can. I’m saved from having to come up with a response to that by the reappearance of River.

“She had me carry fifty friggin pounds of ice upstairs,” he mutters. “Dad and Uncle Lennon were just sitting there.”

“Poor baby,” Alex says, patting his arm.

“Where’d Will go?”

“Can Jam disagreement,” Rose says and he perks up.

“Yeah? Who’s winning?”

“Hell if I can keep track. Go check it out yourself.”

“Nah,” he collapses on one of the chairs under a large patio umbrella. “Too sunny down there.”

“You’re such a baby,” Alex says.

“Excuse me, we aren’t all blessed with your golden complexion, Alexandria. Some of us were born pale.”

“Then put on sunscreen,” she suggests, flipping a page in her magazine. “Or, better yet, why don’t you go swimming if you’re so hot?”

River looks over at Everly, Rose, and Fox. “What do you think?”

“Ooh, yes,” Everly says happily. “Let’s all go.” She grabs my arm. “You haven’t been to the creek yet, have you?”

“I’m not sure what Will wanted to do this afternoon,” I mumble, eyes darting over to the lawn as my stomach sinks. Will and I had talked about this, the possibility of swimming with his family. I’d even gone out to buy a new suit with more coverage.

But having planned for it doesn’t make it any easier to actually do.

Alex must hear the unease in my voice. “It’s really fun,” she assures me. “We can bring some drinks down and sit in tubes and let the current do all the work.”

When I don’t respond right away, Everly leans closer. “Do you not know how to swim?” she asks in an undertone. “Because we can totally bring life jackets. No one will judge you.”

There’s not one hint of disingenuousness on her face. She won’t judge me—not for an inability to swim and not for my scar.

“Hey,” CeCe calls from the sliding glass door, interrupting my internal monologue. She steps out onto the deck, a bunch of those plastic tubes of popsicles clutched in her hand. “Mom said to see who wants ice-pops.” She hands them out to her cousins then approaches me, a broad smile on her face. “I remember you liked the blue raspberry ones yesterday so I saved you one.”

My throat catches with sudden emotion. Whatever I said to them during their lecture that first day must have convinced Will’s siblings that I’m not here to hurt their brother, because both CeCe and Silas have been going out of their way to be nice to me.

These are decent people,I remind myself. They would have to be, for Will to love them all so much.

“We’re getting a group together to go swimming,” I tell CeCe as I take the offered popsicle. “You want to come?”

Her eyes light up. “Yeah! Can Vega and Violet come, too?”

I look over at the older cousins, suddenly concerned that they might not want all of their little siblings and cousins tagging along. But Everly only ruffles the little girl’s hair. “We should all go.”

“All go where?” Will asks, reappearing at my side while the Can-Jam players—including Reed freaking Ransome, who I still can’t believe I’m standing this close to—all gather around CeCe to grab ice-pops.

“We’re gonna go to the creek, maybe do some tubing,” Everly says, and Will immediately shoots me a look filled with worry.

I manage to smile. “I want to go.”

“Are you sure? Because we don’t have to. We could go a different time, by ourselves.”

His obvious concern is attracting attention from his cousins. CeCe is looking back and forth between the two of us, eyebrows furrowed.

I take a fortifying breath and smile at her. “I’ve had a couple surgeries,” I tell her, knowing the rest of them can hear. I try to pretend like one of the best drummers in the world isn’t standing nearby while I spill my secrets. “I have some gross scars on my side and Will knows I don’t really like people to see them so he’s being a worry wart about it.”

CeCe laughs. “Will’s a worry wart about everything.”

“Yeah,” Silas agrees. “You should have seen him when I got my driver’s permit.”

“Or when I went on my first date,” Everly adds, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“If it was up to me, you still wouldn’t be dating,” Will mutters, and they all laugh.

And just like that, the topic of my scar is no big deal.

As we all break up to go get our swimming things, Will grips my arm. “You sure you’re good with this?”

I shrug. “I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines.”

His gaze shifts, something fiery and fierce growing there. I think it might be pride. I take a deep breath, letting his emotion wash over me. If letting a few more people see my scar is enough to get Will Ransome to look at me like that, I’m definitely glad I decided to give bravery a shot.